


A Chessboard Needs a Queen

by TheQuietWings



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Supernatural
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Abrupt Ending, Blanket Permission, Canonical Character Death, Crossover, During Canon, Experimental Style, Feminist Themes, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Kings & Queens, Once a King or Queen of Narnia Always a King or Queen of Narnia, POV Susan Pevensie, Post-Book: The Last Battle (Narnia), The Problem of Susan, What-If, for Supernatural that is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:27:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27597518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheQuietWings/pseuds/TheQuietWings
Summary: What if Susan Pevensie lived, and kept living, and learned about the things that go bump in the night?In short, what if Supernatural and Chronicles of Narnia took place in the same universe?(Aka a crossover born out of a place of righteous fury for Susan Pevensie. I probably won't continue it, but it was a fun thought experiment. I havewaytoo many theories about how she'd relate to certain characters *cough cough* Anna *cough cough* If I got any canon facts wrong its because I haven't watched SPN or read CoN in years. I have no idea where this came from actually.)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 45





	A Chessboard Needs a Queen

In 1949, there was an accident. A train crash that no one could have predicted, and an entire family dead.

Or not.

There is a  ~~ queen  ~~ girl barely old enough to make sense of the world, which is only now beginning to calm. Her name is Susan Pevensie, and she mistakes the eye of the storm for its end. She’s oblivious to the hurricane around her until her roommate hands her a telegram. She smiles before she reads it, probably from Lucy, sweet, daring Lucy who couldn’t stay in one place longer than a month. 

PEVENSIES DEAD STOP TRAIN CRASH STOP COME NOW STOP

She’s twenty-one years old, and she has no one.

She’s twenty-one years old, and she never stops being twenty-one years old.

She doesn’t notice it at first. There is grief, a haze, and she slips through the years. She remembers her brothers, her sister, she holds onto them as tightly as possible. She dreams, and she dreams, and she remembers. They had all thought she’d forgotten, and she’d let them believe. It was easier that way, to be Susan, the grown-up, eyes pointed straight ahead, ready to pave her way by word or force in an unforgiving world. She was

~~ Once a king or queen of Narnia, always a king or queen of Narnia. ~~

But she didn’t make that choice. 

She would not make the same mistake twice.

Witches could not be trusted, but neither could lions. 

Susan Pevensie is twenty-one until her thirty-first birthday, and only then does she realize there might be a problem. She still gets carded at bars, still gets questioned by men (though maybe that is less a question of age and more a question of gender), still gets treated like a child. She’s sure at first that this is a curse, that she’s been made into stone just like the creatures she once saved, once protected,  ~~ once ruled . ~~

~~ Once a king or queen ~~

Once.

Once upon a time, there was a woman named Susan Pevensie who did not age, and on her thirty-second birthday, she found out demons were real. There is a freedom that comes with her age. She may wander into sleepy university campuses and sneak into lectures. She learns about physics and the etymology of words and that women are disappearing from their dorms. The others talk in hushed tones, terrified of being next. They are a scattered group of fearful children, and their teachers dismiss their concerns.  _ Shame _ , thinks Susan.  _ Shame on you. We are meant to protect them.  _

~~ a king or queen ~~

Call it what you will, dumb luck or skill. 

It’s both.

Susan has made no small study of the magic of the world, of the supernatural. She’s looking for lions, for pools that lead to other worlds, for wardrobes that let in the cold and lampposts that grow like trees. She finds werewolves, and ghosts, and she does find witches but none like the White Witch (Call her by her name, call her Jadis, don’t ever fear a name). No one was. She finds demons, how to hurt them, how to trap them, how to send them back where they came from. In Narnia, she fought her battles with a sword or danced around them with pretty words of diplomacy. In Narnia, she always won.

She puts on lipstick and nylons and lures a demon to banishment. 

It feels good, protecting  ~~ her  ~~ people.

Susan Pevensie learns to hunt.

She changes names over the years. She uses Lucy’s for a stead, in honor, and Edmund’s as well, with a quick smile on her lips and hair shorn. She calls herself Elizabeth and Diana, Jane and Marie, Adrian and Jack. She steals from books, from the famous, from anyone who will give her a look. She travels. In 70 years, you can go far, and she hunts everywhere she goes. She watches the world change around her, war and destruction and humanity. And maybe this world doesn’t want her anymore than the last did, but she loves it anyway, in that impossible to control way. This is the world that Edmund wrote his first drafts in, that Peter went to court for, that Lucy wanted to explore every last inch of. This is the world of her birth and her home and she will protect it, even if it never knows.

And in 2005, when she invades a nest of vampires to steal a gun, she once more calls herself Susan and her whole life is swept away again, not with the soundless dream of a train crash and bodies only she was left to identify. But close. Close enough. The Winchesters are like a vortex, step in and you can never escape, but they live in her world. They see it all, the good and the bad and the horrifying, and they choose to protect it, like she has. She doesn’t believe in fate, but she can’t deny destiny. 

They never ask how old she is. Why would they?

They never ask how much she’s seen. Why would they?

They never ask about the weight of a world she was banished from for growing too old, too independent. For being a queen instead of playing at one. 

Why would they?

But Sam and Dean are the best company she’s had in years. They remind her of her own brothers. Dean and Peter always lead the charge, always looking out. Sam and Edmund, always careful, always unsure, ready to pay back a misstep a thousand fold. 

There’s more to the story than them. There is Jo, sweet and daring and so much like Lucy it hurts. There is Anna, who is the first to ask and to recognize who she is, who understands. There is the Trickster, all grins and distraction but she knows what someone trying to run from themselves looks like, she tried for years. There is Chuck Shurley, whose very presence makes her uneasy and afraid and  _ furious  _ but for what reason, she has no idea (not until later, much later, and she has every right to be angry.)

Edmund betrayed them to the White Witch.

Sam started the Apocalypse.

She doesn’t care if there’s a difference, and she stops him dead in his tracks on that dock. “We are strongest when we have each other to rely on.” She stands up to him without question, eyes hard and shoulders straight, a crown of braids on her head the only reminder of her true status. Sam blinks, Sam stops, and he backs down. “We are at war,” she whispers, with the sharpness of her sister’s dagger. “And I do not intend to lose.”

Once a King or Queen of Narnia, Always a King or Queen of Narnia. 

**Author's Note:**

> if you enjoyed this and want to use it for your own crossover, feel free. I'm giving blanket permission. if you've got questions about this au, feel free to ask me. i might not have thought through everything but i sure thought about way more than i've put on paper here.


End file.
